The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(106)

They left the mango grove behind. In the distance, a low rumble of thunder sounded. The rain was light and Sand knew it wouldn’t turn into a real storm for some time yet. She’d lived a life with memories and her own purposes. She wasn’t sure how long it had been or what had happened to her to lead her here to Maila, but sometimes when she was still and thinking, a memory would wend its way through her mind. That dining hall with its vast ceiling. The murals. The cloud juniper doors and the tall, handsome man in his silk robes. Heat rose up her neck as she followed Shell through the trees. She’d known that man intimately. And he hadn’t only loved her, he had shown her things – secret things.

The memories hadn’t made clear exactly what. But she had to believe there was a life for her away from Maila. A man like that wouldn’t want an ugly woman of no importance like Sand, but perhaps . . . ? Perhaps they had once meant something to one another.

“Are you all right?” Shell asked.

She’d fallen far behind, lost in her own thoughts. She hurried to catch up. Now of all times was not the moment to get caught up in dreams and memories. They had this one chance to take the ship, and she was mooning about. “I’m fine.”

The sound of their footsteps faded into the rain drumming against the forest canopy, the high, sharp calls of birds. Hope had tightened her throat. She swallowed past it. “Shell, have you ever had memories of a life before this?”

“No,” he said. He used the butt of his spear to shove a branch aside.

A little part of Sand withered. Perhaps she was mad.

A few more steps, and Shell cleared his throat. “But I’ve had dreams. I suppose they could be memories if they were real. But what’s real here?”

“I don’t know.” Her hand snaked into her pocket, closing around the shard with the strange writing.

“I don’t remember much of them. But sometimes, when I wake up, I have this impression. It’s like staring at a sunset for too long and then looking away. You can still see it on your eyelids.” He took in a deep breath, climbed up a rock. “For me, I think I smell fresh ginger. And I feel this warmth on my hands, like I’m near a fire. There’s this comfort in my heart and in my bones. I think it’s a man and a woman that I love, and they’re both with me. There’s a child.” He shook his head, and his lank hair dripped. “I don’t know any more than that. I don’t know where I am, what I do for a living, what their names are, what my name is. How can I think of it as any more than just a dream?”

“Mine are different,” Sand said. Shell’s recollection might be a painting of a few brush strokes, but hers were like the scenes of a play. “I don’t know my name, but I see everything as though through my own eyes.” She wasn’t sure how to further explain, so she didn’t.

They spoke no more until they reached the cove. Leaf had found it a few days after they’d started looking. Maila was not a large island. The plan had come together after that, with a good deal of help from Coral. They couldn’t be like pirates, using their numbers to storm the boat and throwing its captain overboard. Instead, they had to get what they wanted with a series of steps, like approaching a frightened animal sideways.

The first step: making sure the boat couldn’t leave.

Coral, Frond and Leaf were here already, along with four others. They’d been able to clear the fog for more of the inhabitants, but most inevitably fell back into it after a day or two. Only the nine of them had been able to stave it off.

It had been enough to make the net. They’d all neglected their daily chores in order to set this trap. Coral and Frond already stood in place on the rocks, ropes in hand.

“How far off?” Sand called.

Coral pointed to the horizon. Her eyes must have been sharper than Sand’s to spot it earlier, because Sand could only just make out the blue sails. “We’ll have to stay hidden,” Sand said to the rest of them. “Make sure they don’t see us until the boat is well into the cove. On my signal, raise the net. The rest will go as we’ve discussed.”

The others nodded. Sand went to her spot in the trees overlooking the cove. Shell went to the rocks on the beach. Coral and Frond ducked behind outcroppings. When they all were in place, the cove looked mostly undisturbed. As long as the captain of the boat didn’t look too closely, they wouldn’t be any the wiser until it was too late.

Sand found herself reaching into her pocket again and wrapping her fingers around the shard.

It was bone. The answer came to her all at once. Maybe it was the feel of it in her palm, but she wasn’t crouched in the trees anymore, the seagrass obscuring her form.

She was in a library, shelves climbing close to the ceiling. A row of windows, high up, let in the light. The man stood in front of her, his back to her. Even without seeing his face, she knew who he was. Her heartbeat quickened. He looked upon the shelves, his hands clasped behind his back. “This is everything,” he said, his voice echoing from the walls. “This is all the knowledge I have.”

Memory-Sand strode to a shelf and ran a hand across the book bindings. The smell of old glue and paper rose from their spines. “I want you to teach me.”

“We pass this knowledge down linearly,” the man said, still not looking at her. “Father to son to daughter to son.”

“Family,” memory-Sand said. “Am I not now your family?” She took one creeping step toward him, and then another.